He was only eighty percent certain this was a bad idea.

Ignoring the giggles of the beembos up in their giant clover bed above, he raised his hand and gave three small knocks. The knocks rang solidly against the wooden door.

In the silence that followed, he almost allowed himself to hope there might be no response.

Instead, the dulcet tones of Sylvia called from within, “Come on in, Master!”

Her use of that word had his heart fluttering as he stepped inside.

He wasn’t Master, was the thing. Not anymore, and he never should have been. He was the Warden now—not even Master of his own mind, not really, not when fey were around and in the mood to play. But these particular fey… he hadn’t been back to the Thriae’s cottage since the battle.

The place had considerably changed since his last visit. First, the kitchen appeared to have been scaled down and, more significantly, separated from the sitting room—the area was no longer open-concept, but split by a wall of just-translucent resin and a large oak door. The living room was still a decadent lounge, with a dangerously cozy-looking towering armchair and a pair of loveseats flanking it, but the crackling fireplace was completely gone, and a couple bookshelves and a workdesk had been added. A painting hung over where the fireplace had been, depicting an unfamiliar Thriae woman dressed in fine white silks. The woman in the painting wore a sly, knowing smile, and cradled in her arms was a little pink rabbit.

Something was odd about the rabbit. It took Senya a moment to realize it appeared to be constructed from cotton candy, with two chocolate truffles for eyes and ovular cookies for ears.

Noticing a shifting of lights behind the resin wall, Senya realized Sylvia must be in the kitchen.

"Well, gosh, come on, sweetie!" called the bimbo beegirl, giggling as he hesitated in the entranceway.

He took a deep breath, appreciating the clean air while it lasted, and opened the kitchen door.

To his surprise, he was not immediately greeted by the overpowering smell of Thriae mead. The smell of honey was subtle and savory, almost buttery. It sizzled and bubbled in a pot Sylvia was carefully stirring.

"Good morning, Master," Sylvia said, giving him a sunlight-through-a-jar-of-syrup smile. "It's sooo nice to see you!"

"Nice to see you, too, Sylvia." Senya found himself smiling back—Sylvia's smile was the sweetly addictive kind you couldn’t help but return. "It's just Senya now. Or... Warden, if you want."

"Ooh. Senya." Sylvia pronounced the name like it was an exotic new sweetmeat dissolving on her tongue. "That's, like, so nice of you! You have such a pretty name, you know!"

"So... what are you working on?" Senya shifted as he watched her stir.

"A resin piece." Sylvia looked back over the pot with a carefree smile. "I've been working on a new magical item."

"Oh. So it's not..."

Sylvia turned and beamed at him. "Did you think it was some sort of mind control treat, Senya?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Or hoped?"

It was very hot in the kitchen. "Well, I..."

"This long away from the Hive, a girl's got to have hobbies, you know." Sylvia giggled, her laugh airy and bright like dust in a sunbeam. "I can't always be brainwashing dumb boys who don't know any better~"

"Right. I... noticed the redecorating."

"Oh, isn't it nice? Like, gimme a sec…" Sylvia gave the pot a very serious appraising look, then took it off the woodstove and spooned the bubbling liquid into the indentation of a strange block of what appeared to be ever-steaming ice. She set the emptied pot down and clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing up and taking his hand. Senya tried not to notice just how enticingly she bounced in her low-cut sundress. "The Crows were, like, soooo helpful in finding the books I needed, and I've been trading some of the things I make to get pretty things I like!"

Senya noticed her appealing resin earrings, glinting in the light of the fire. Her eyes sparkled with glee like two suns, almost painful to look at in her happiness.

"What about Lata and Lala? Um, how are they doing?"

"Oh, they're out again." Sylvia waved a hand dismissively. "A Thriae has to conquer something, and they're less happy doing it with, like, creativey stuff.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “So they're off playing with the lamia, I think."

"Really." Senya wasn't so sure that that was conducive to the ideal of the Ward’s wicked fey breaking their more, well, problematic habits, but it wasn't his job to control them. He just had to keep them from leaving and wreaking havoc.

"Yuh-huh!" She put a finger to pouty beestung lips. "Why? Were you here looking for them, honey?"

"No, no," he said quickly, lured into eagerness by those big, gorgeous eyes. "Actually, I was, um, here for you."

"Oh?" Those lips curved upwards into a smile that was a little too mischievous for his liking. "Is that soooo?"

Senya felt his cheeks heating up. His heartrate decided to accelerate when Sylvia took a step closer, tilting her head crooked to the side.

"You want me?" she purred, swinging her hips slowly as she stepped closer, closer. "Is that, like, what you just said?"

Senya's mouth was dry. He tried not to look at how her hips swayed, or how her full, honeyed lips visibly savored the word want. “W-Well, yes, but—”

"That's so cuuute," she cooed, squeezing his hand in both of hers, bringing his hand to her bosom, pressing it between her soft, warm breasts, so smooth, so pillowy... "Gosh, do you have, like, a crush on me or something?"

"I—I—" Senya felt his head swimming as he stared into those eyes. "No, wait, you—"

"Omigods, sooo cute!" She bounced closer, lashes fluttering lower and lower, seductive bedroom eyes not releasing his. "The silly boy has a little crush on me!” Her eyes locked on his. “Gosh, I wonder what he'd do if I gave him a little… kiss?"

Senya backed away, sputtering. He tried to find words to object, to resist, tried to pull his hand out of her grip, but Sylvia was so beautiful, and her voice sent tingles across his mind, nullifying his concerns, melting his doubts, and it felt so nice having Sylvia smiling at him like that…

Sylvia burst out laughing. "Oh, relax, silly! I'm only teasing."

Senya stopped sputtering. He swallowed and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, um... I noticed. But I've… I’ve noticed that fey's idea of 'only teasing' tends to escalate kind of quickly, doesn't it?"

Sylvia smirked.

Then, still holding his hand, she took another step closer. He stiffened—but she just brushed past him and led him out of the kitchen.

"Things are totally different now," she chirped. "Now that you're not our Master, I don't feel like I always need to, like, put you in your place, you know?" She winked. "Now that I know that I could have you anytime. Now that there aren't any boring triggers protecting you from me." She twirled mid-stride to face him, the hem of her sundress fluttering around her ankles. “It's a lot less high-pressure!"

"R-Right." Senya laughed nervously. "Well, believe it or not, I'm… I’m really not here to fool around."

The fluttering of her thick lashes over those big golden eyes was almost absurdly innocent as she released his hand and went to sit at one of the loveseats. "Oh, really?"

His eyes flitted up to the painting. Curiosity itched at the back of his brain. "Who is that, by the way?"

"Her?" Sylvia glanced back at the portrait. "That cost me a super special commission—a resin sword that can cut through and poison mind protection spells so they turn on their user." She grinned proudly. “Which I totally nailed, by the way. Super pretty, too!”

Senya was sure he didn't want to know how an imprisoned Thriae managed to get these goods to market. The fact that she was so happily open about it told him that she wasn't the least bit worried about him putting a stop to it, and he didn't really want to try and test that confidence of hers right now.

"That sounds..."

"Awful?" Sylvia asked sweetly. "Awfully hot?" She patted the deep, soft armchair next to her, eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, sweetie. The sword is way too sharp to hurt people. And the corruption effect… well, it feels soooo good."

That didn’t really make it any better, but Senya bit his tongue. Not the time.

"Anyways, the pretty lady in the painting is named Aposta." Sylvia looked up at the portrait. "She's kinda infamous among the Thriae. She's one of super few of our kind who's ever left her Hive and decided, like, not to start another. She's, like, totally one of the best alchemists in the world." Her eyes had a faraway glaze to them. "The work she's done is... like, gosh, her candies are legendary. They say her old Queen is still sending warriors after her, and those few that make it back return totally brainwashed to sabotage their own Hive."

The look was almost worshipful.

"Is it hard to leave your Hive, then?"

Sylvia glanced back at him, some awareness returning, and giggled. She patted the armchair next to her. "Is that what you came here to talk about, sweetie?"

"Sort of." Senya hesitated. The armchair off to the side was off-limits—he knew from experience how vulnerable he'd be there. Sitting across from her was just as bad. He’d be staring right at her, right at her gorgeous, enticing, hypnotic body.

In the end, he decided on a show of trust and walked over and sat down right next to her. Sylvia blinked, clearly startled. "We're bringing two more Thriae to the Verdant Ward tomorrow. I was... wondering if you could give me some ideas what to expect. I mean, how to, um..."

"Make them feel at home?" Sylvia supplied, and giggled. She scooted a little closer to him, and he smelled fresh honeysuckles. "You want to know about how Thriae hives run, huh?"

Senya nodded, surprised at the feelings of shyness in him. This was by far the most ‘normal’ conversation he’d ever had with Sylvia, and he was starting to remember that completely outside the risk of being seduced by a fey temptress, he was also just chatting with a beautiful woman.

Sylvia beamed. "I can toootally help you with that!"

Senya almost thought he caught a spark of something wicked in those brilliant golden eyes. But the next moment it was gone, and left was pure, molten sweet innocence.

He gulped.


~ ~ ~ ~

"The most important thing to understand," Sylvia said, one finger playing around a pigtail, eyes as bright and guileless as if she was talking about a math problem she didn't understand or a boy or girl she liked, "is that all fey have, like, Primal Codes, right? Those are, like... like, if mortals are made of Dust and Sin, fey are juuuust made out of Dust, so we tend to be a lot simpler! Primal Codes are the things that make us exist." She beamed. "And, like, the more further we get from them..."

She appeared to struggle, then. Her eyes crossed a little, and she sucked on the tip of a finger, clearly searching hard for the words. "It's like... like, when we weren't allowed to leave the cottage, it was kinda like trying to hold too much water in a glass. Like, forcing a whole gallon of milk into a pint bottle."

"And the Primal Code for Thriae is, um..."

Sylvia beamed brightly up at him. "Conquest."

As innocent as her tone was, Senya found himself squirming.

"Thriae need to spread themselves, see?" she cooed, licking her lips and bouncing her knees together. Her sundress was all she was wearing, Senya was sure, and he tried not to look at how her relaxed position pulled it slightly up her thighs.

Tried and failed. Sylvia was unspeakably, dangerously gorgeous. He wasn’t even positive she was doing it on purpose, but gods, did it feel good to stare...

"Right," he managed, nodding to show he was absolutely paying attention. He was. He was trying so hard to do so.

"Right! It's in our nature to conquer, to claim, to dominate." Her supple lips moved over the words like she could taste them. "It's why Hives are always raiding, always taking what they want."

"So... what do they do if they can't do that?" Senya hoped he wasn't blushing as red as he felt. Sylvia didn't seem to notice, at least.

"Well, I like 'conquering' kinda indirectly." Sylvia giggled. "You know, sharing what I make, that kinda thing. Plus, playing with whoever happens by." She tittered as Senya ducked his head without thinking. "But, like, really, if you wanna understand fully, I have to tell you about Thriae hierarchies.

Senya remained silent and tried to avoid drawing attention, tried to focus on her bouncing knees.

"See, in a normal Hive, there are five roles." Sylvia reached over and took his hand and made him hold up five fingers. Slowly, she pulled his thumb down. "First, there's the Queen. She's the ruler of the Hive, but she's also kinda a prisoner, in a way." She ran a fingertip over his palm. He shivered. "She's the strongest, most dominant girl in the entire Hive. She has to be, because nobody else could handle tasting the royal jelly."

"Royal jelly."

"Ooh, yes." Sylvia licked her lips. "It's the sweetest Thriae honey, cooked and reduced down, down, down..." She bobbed her head, eyes glimmering. "... until it's as thick and heavy as molasses, so thick you could make it into sucking candies. But at the Queen's touch, it melts and drips like honey. Sweet, gooey, leaky honey."

Senya was having trouble breathing clear air. Sylvia smelled so good, so sweet, and her eyes were so big as she smiled up at him, still so pure and innocent...

"Leaky," he echoed, trying to show her he was still paying attention despite it all.

Sylvia giggled. Her delicate fingertips scurried over his chest. "The Queen’s the only one allowed to brew the royal jelly. She’s the source of royal jelly, and the jelly is the source of her. Anyone who takes enough of it eventually..." Her lashes fluttered. "Well, either they become the Queen, or they become something... else."

From the way sultry flames danced in her eyes, Senya knew he didn't want to ask her to elaborate.

"You said she was a… also a prisoner."

"Mm.” Her adorable cheeks dimpled. “Thriae need to conquer, Senya, honey, remember? We can’t stand be contained. So, like, imagine a whole Hive of Thriae had a single person above them who could control them, a single person who has all the control. Gosh, she even has a honey that can affect the rest of them!”

"I-I see."

"Can you imagine?" She blinked big doe eyes up at him. "Being in control, but constantly hounded and tempted by an army of beautiful girls, always looking for a weak spot?" She undid one of the buttons of Senya shirt, her voice descending to a gooey, breathy, lust-oozing coo. "I'll bet you can~"

Senya squirmed. Her voice was so close, and her heat was so... so hot. Her body was soft against his, supple and yielding.

"So you have a leader," she went on, "who has to maintain constant control, keep everyone nice and busy. She keeps us occupied. Keeps us expanding. Especially the warriors, who are, y'know, the most likely to try something. And she keeps us busy with each other."

Her hand undid another button. Senya swallowed.

"The warriors, now..." Sylvia's eyes crinkled. "Lala and Lata were warriors, but it's a very silly name, don't you think?" She giggled. "After all, they never hurt anyone! They just know how to make them feel so. Very. Good. With each word, a button flicked undone. "A raiding party of six or seven warriors can bring a whole village to its knees in less than an hour, honey, just by buzzing their wings, just by offering those sweet pitchers, just by offering sweet kisses from lips positively dripping with honey~"

Her own lips were half-parted, luscious and pillowy and sticky amber-gold, as she gazed up at him. Despite the beauty of her eyes, those lips drew him irresistibly, drew him to stare, to imagine, to remember. The feeling of her lips on his, the sweetness, the plump softness, the heat…

He ducked his head and shifted, scooting slightly away from her. “R-Right. So… then there’s, um, workers, right?”

“That’s right,” she said, and her voice was wrapped in silks so tightly Senya immediately knew she was pleased he thought this would bring reprieve. “And gosh, if you think warriors are horny, you’ve never met one of us little worker bees~”

She beamed up at him and scooched closer again, swinging one leg over his. She was almost in his lap.

“O-Oh?” he squeaked.

Her smile widened. “Oh, yes. You see, a Hive's warriors are only as irresistible as their workers's preparations. Workers are the true meadbrewers." She leaned in close. "I think you know," she poked his chest playfully, "how good my honey tastes~"

Senya didn't trust his vocal cords. He just nodded.

"Good!" she chirped. She nuzzled his neck. "Workers are technically lower-ranking than warriors, of course. Warriors are known to be more experienced, more seductive." She smirked. "Sometimes it's even true~"

"But it's—isn't it?"

"Mm." She flashed him a smile. "Technically, we're the same 'kind' of Thriae. A worker is just a Thriae who doesn't try to make herself obvious. A girl who prefers a..." Her hand grazed over hiship. "... subtle touch, you know?"

He shivered. "Yeah."

"There's no real biological difference between warriors, workers and drones. Not on their own. But being treated a certain way changes you. After a while, presentation becomes reality, if you want it to." Her eyes sparkled. "Warriors get stronger, taller. Workers get softer. And drones... mm, well, drones are all kinds of fun."

Senya had heard this term before. Sometimes Lata and Lala, always vying for dominance, called each other drones as a teasing insult. He bit his lip. He could tell Sylvia was itching for him to ask, and finally relented. "What's... what's a drone?"

Sylvia smiled triumphantly. With one smooth motion, she hopped up into his lap.

Senya gasped as Sylvia’s soft, indulgent ass pressed down against his tented trousers. Her breasts, bared generously by the low-cut dress, squished against his torso as her legs settled on either side of his, straddling him. She beamed up at him. "A drone," she said sweetly, tracing a delicate finger over bare skin beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt, "is a Thriae who the others identify as vulnerable."

Senya couldn't breathe. He didn't dare. Breathing meant inhaling more of Sylvia's delectable, addictive toxin, her perfume, her honeyed musk that made his brain dissolve into goo and drip down, down, down. He squirmed, and was rewarded with delectable pleasure as his cock grinded against her weight. He could barely force himself still.

"Sometimes a Thriae just weakens over time," she hummed, twirling a finger around one nipple. "Sometimes she's born weak. Sometimes Thriae spring from the ley well with nice, sensitive, easily-trained cocks, and if they can't hide those pretty things..." She leaned in and gave a happy, sensuous sigh in his ear. "Other Thriae find that cute little leash and make use of it. A Thriae drone isn't always a girl with a cock, and not all Thriae with cocks turn into drones, but they're sooooo cute when they do. Pure femininity, pure weakness."

She gave his earlobe a dainty nibble, drawing a gasp from him. "The same thing happens when a Thriae calls himself a boy. We don't mind one bit, of course! But boys are sooo naturally weak..." She kissed him on the cheek. "It's very, very, very rare that a Thriae boy can withstand three beautiful women pinning him to a wall, covering him with kisses, drowning him in buzzing bliss."

"I." Senya's head swam as his lungs filled with sweet pheromones. He stared helplessly up at Sylvia as she gave him an imperious, knowing smirk. Like he was her property, her subject. "I, um... I sh-should…"

"Shush!" She darted in to shower him with kisses, and he whimpered and squirmed beneath them. He could feel her lipstick marks clinging to his skin. His head swayed when her lips left him. His mind swam in honey, tongue lolling slightly. "Let me do the talking, sweetie. I'm, like, soooo much better at it, aren't I?" She batted her lashes.

"Y... yuh..."

"Girls are so much better at talking than dumb boys," she cooed. "Aren't they?"

"Y... I-I mean, um, n—nngh..." His protest melted into an overwhelmed groan of bliss as she wiggled her ass against his cock.

"Dumb boys," she said sweetly, a honey-dripped finger to his lips, "just get soooo dumb when a pretty girl is around. Their dumb boycocks start thinking for them, don't they?"

He whimpered and tried to shake his head.

She beamed, took him by the chin, and made him nod for her.

"Aww, that's right!" she cooed in delight. "Good boy! They do! They're soooo dumb! Girls just always know best, don't they? Aren’t they so much smarter?”

"N-Nno..."

She forced his eyes to his. "Yes, they are,” she whispered.

"yes, they are.”

The words slid out of him without thinking, and he moaned in embarrassment as a bratty, satisfied smile spread across Sylvia’s angelic features.

"Now, as I was saying," she said, grinning wickedly, "we were talking about power. Thriae girls having power over boys. I bet you wanted to know whether Thriae buzzing affects other Thriae, don’t you?"

He nodded meekly.

"It does and it doesn't." She smirked, clearly enjoying how frustrating this answer must be—or perhaps enjoying how frustrating her little wiggles clearly were to him. “'Cause, like, we are immune, technically. But only technically. Believing is another matter." As he tried to duck his head again—not, he told himself, to stare at her gorgeous tits, but to avoid those lips and eyes—she gripped his chin tighter and held his eyes captive in hers. Captive in the orbit of twin golden stars. "It's like alchemy. If you believe something will work, it will! And even knowing that doesn't help—because if you believe that believing in something makes it work, it does, and it will still."

Senya's mind swam in slow, confused whirlpools of syrup as he stared into those shimmering golden eyes. It felt like Sylvia was intentionally trying to disorient him at this point.

"A Thriae sees her buzzing work on mortals all the time." Sylvia's wings fluttered meaningfully, and Senya felt his mind already start to dissolve into the brief buzzing—as well as the realization that the triggers really were gone, and there was nothing but whim protecting him from Sylvia just getting it into her head to buzz her wings until his will was complete putty.

Not that she needed the help. "She brags about it, fantasizes about it. The hum of the Hive is >everywhere around her. She can't stop thinking about it. That buzz is like her Primal Code. It's inevitable that she'd start to fixate." Her eyes sparkled. "To obsess. To crave." Her lips brushed his, and he quivered. "The buzzing affects her because she expects it to affect her. All it takes is a gentle nudge—a delicate suggestion, a sweet enough hypnotic induction—and her mind unfolds for the buzzing like a delicate flower."

She ground her hips, and he felt her slick pussy sliding against his clad cock, exquisite and unbearable. Her heavy ass weighed against him like a weighted feather comforter, decadently soft, warm, inviting. He felt her honey dripping onto his trousers, some dripping through and making his cock twitch and tingle with need.

"So, are you ready?" she asked silkily.

Senya blinked dumbly. "I—I—" He sputtered and struggled, his mind leaking and dripping like a broken water pump, no longer able to obey him, only wanting to obey the owner of those soft tits pressing against him, those beautiful, pillowy lips...

"For number five, dummy!" Sylvia giggled and booped him on the nose. "Don't tell me you can't even count to five! Typical dumb boy~"

He whimpered. But... she'd already named all the roles, hadn’t she? Queen, worker, warrior, drone...

"The fifth," she said sultrily, "is the mead sprite~"

"O-Oh." He swallowed.

Oh dear.

"Mead sprites are special." Her voice was soft, breathless. "A Hive can't function without them. A Thriae hive needs to multiply, you see." She stroked under his chin and giggled. "And so the Hive is always raiding, always looking for new toys~"

She bounced in his lap. He felt her guiding his chin once more, forcing him down, and his eyes settled on her full, generous breasts, so perfectly round as they pushed out against her sundress. "Not many fey can transform mortals into fey," she purred. "But a human who becomes truly addicted, utterly lost, can be taken by the Thriae and... changed. She swayed in place, making her tits sway with her. "They beg for it, in the end."

Senya licked his lips and tried to keep his composure as he watched her tits wobble and jiggle seductively.

He didn't like how she said 'in the end'.

A part of him liked it very much, though.

"A mead sprite's whole purpose is just honey and pleasure," Sylvia sang down to him. "They're, like, the same thing, really. Uh-huh! Serving us, sucking and fucking, kneeling and serving, obeying our every whim..." She smiled smugly. "They need it."

Senya was starting to realize he was in trouble. In fact, he might be in serious trouble. Everything depended on Sylvia’s whims now. He squirmed, but Sylvia felt so heavy atop him, and her kisses had left him so weak.

She kept kissing him, too. Kissing his neck, along his jawline, his cheeks... and with every kiss, his mind fuzzed and buzzed a little more, more honey trickled into him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she had him totally at her mercy.

At the thought, he unconsciously, helplessly bucked against her.

"Ooh!" Her eyes widened. "Oh, do you like that?" She wiggled her hips with a sly giggle. "Awww, I-can-tell-you-doooo~"

Senya whined as his cock twitched and throbbed and dribbled. No. No, he had to... he needed to...

He watched her tits bounce and jiggle. He couldn't look away, even when her kisses started to move closer to his lips, and every breath of air was a breath of her, her will filling his lungs, suffusing his mind, melting him, breaking him.

"That's right, cutie," she cooed down at him condescendingly. "Just stare at my tits. Just stare at my bimbo beegirl boobies like a good boy should!" She bounced to and fro. "Let your whole mind sink into them. Sink into the honey they're soooo ready to share with you~"

"No,” Senya moaned, “wait, Sylvia, I..."

"Sink."

Senya’s head dropped until his chin touched his chest. He stared helplessly at Sylvia’s chest. He couldn't help it. He was just a boy, after all. Boys couldn’t help themselves.

He stared at the bouncing boobies and felt a thin trail of drool tracing from the corner of his mouth.

And then they squished together, and his whole mind was squished between them.

"Good boy." Sylvia sounded unbearably smug. "Sink deeeeep deepdeepdeepdeep down for me, okay, baby?"

"yes, Sylvia." Senya vaguely felt like he was supposed to be fighting, but his voice sounded so sure, so brainlessly, senselessly certain that Sylvia needed to be obeyed, he couldn't even imagine trying to do anything else. It felt so good to just sit here, to stare, to agree with everything Sylvia told him. He felt his mind sinking, squishing, smooshing, bouncing...

"Good boy." Sylvia’s voice was sunny and warm, and Senya shivered with pleasure. "You're nice and under, now, aren't you? Totally docile. Toootally suggestible."

"Uh..." Senya couldn’t even lift his head to meet her eyes. Senya’s head was current filled halfway to the brim with honey, so heavy, so sloshy and gooey and sticky and irresistible even as it sapped the strength from his will. He couldn’t lift his head, and why would he, when it was so easy to keep staring at Sylvia's beautiful tits…

"Yes, you are," Sylvia purred.

"yes..."

"Suggestible. Docile. Obedient." Her hips wriggled.

"obeedieennt," Senya mewled.

"Aww, the pleasure’s already enslaved your dumb boy brain, hasn’t it?"

"y-y-yeh..." Senya struggled with the word, some tiny piece of willpower pulling desperately at the escaping syllable.

Sylvia laughed lightly and caressed his cheek. "Good boys say yes~"

"oh." Senya let out a breathless sigh as the tiny piece of him melted into the rising honey tides, and now the word spilled from his lips without resistance. "y-yes, Sylvia!"

"Good boy!" Sylvia sounded quite pleased. "Isn't that soooo much, like, easier for a dummy boy like you?"

"yes, Sylvia," he whispered. It was so much simpler to just say that to everything she told him. Good boys said yes.

"Good boy!"

As he said it, as he felt the sweet pleasure of her praise, Senya felt a big, stupid smile spreading across his face. This was so much easier. Sylvia was so smart!

"You're nice and deep under now," Sylvia cooed. "Deep, deep, totally at my mercy."

"yes, Sylvia."

"And your brain is allll gooey," she said sadly, "isn't it, sweetie?"

"y-yes..."

“Of course it is.” She tipped his head up and leaned in with a fierce, almost savage grin, peppering his face with soft, wet kisses. “Gooey,” mwah! “and sticky,” mwah! “with honey~” The second she finished, she released his chin, and his head dropped back down feeling heavier than ever.

"yes," he whimpered. "yes, yes, yes, Sylvia!"

"Soooo sticky," she gushed with a girlish giggle, "it's just gonna take on every little suggestion I make, isn't it? Right now, you'd let a pretty girl do anything to you." Her voice dripped with sweet, intoxicating suggestions. "Anything to your weak, vulnerable, sticky-drippy-gooey-drooly mind she pleases~"

Senya's tongue lolled as Sylvia bounced her breasts with a happy, bubbly laugh. "yyyesss..."

"I'm gonna wake you up in a moment," she said silkily. "But before I do, I'm gonna put some cuuute little… suggestions on that sticky-gooey brain of yours.

“You don't mind, do you?"

She tipped his chin up again and forced his eyes into hers. She had on the most insufferably smug, condescending smile he'd ever seen. In all his humiliation, his cock only twitched eagerly at the mere thought of pleasing her.

"yes, Sylvia!" he babbled happily, bucking up against her weight.

Sylvia giggled with glee. "Oh, wow, you're soooo far down right now. Good boy! I bet you were secretly craving me doing this the whole time~"

"yes, Sylvia." It was true, he realized. Senya knew it was true, because she said it, and Sylvia was so much smarter than a dumb boy like him. Pretty girls were always smarter than dumb boys like him. It had to be true. Sylvia couldn't be wrong. She knew his brain better than he did, clearly, since she kept telling him things he hadn’t known that were true about it.

"They're gonna stick to your brain," she purred, "like sweet, sticky lipstick kisses. Doesn't that sound nice?" To demonstrate, she planted a long, indulgent kiss on his cheek.

"yesss," he slurred. The kiss felt so wonderful, and the thought of more of those kisses on his brain… through the languid amber currents flooding his mind, pure idiotic bliss flowed like swelling tidal waves. “s-stick… kisses…”

“That’s right!” Sylvia smirked. “Good boy. Now…” She traced her fingertips over his scalp. “What to do with this pretty toy~?”

TO BE CONTINUED...